Dullerton
by auricvision
Summary: Don't read this story. It's too boring. It doesn't have a plot. All it knows how to do is talk about how boring it is. It's Dull. With a capital D, but you knew that. No, seriously, don't do it. I'm warning you. Last chance.


I drummed my fingers on the table while staring outside the window. Everything about the day was boring. Even nature itself had given up on trying to be interesting and had all turned one stupid, dull shade of grey. Grey, grey, grey. Dull, dull, dull. Duuuuulll... Nope, the word itself wasn't even very interesting.

Why did it have to go and rain, anyway? Sure, the crops needed water, but that's what watering cans are for, right? Why even bother going to the trouble to invent something if nature had every excuse to do it for you? Nope, we had invented watering cans, so therefore, nature had no excuse.

"Brother, what are you doing?"

I sighed. Stupid question. I wasn't _doing_ anything, that was the problem. If I were _doing_ something, I wouldn't be so freaking bored.

"Thinking," I replied, in monotone. Even my voice didn't want to be interesting. Dully dullerton.

"Well, obviously, but thinking about what?"

"If there's anyone out there who might have a last name of Dullerton."

The silence Al provided at my answer was most reassuring. Maybe he was quirking an eyebrow at what he said, but he wasn't laughing. If even Al was being dull, then it wasn't just me, there was definitely something so very very dullty about the day. That was reassuring, but not much. It would have been more reassuring on another day. The dullness was settling in like a cloud and taking over everything.

"Dullerton?" Al replied, not realizing I had gone much farther in my thoughts since I had said that. Dullerton was old news.

"Yeah, and wondering if the aliens are trying to lull us to sleep with rain so they can come and do tests while the entire planet sleeps."

"Aliens."

"Yes." Why did he sound like he didn't believe me?

"Brother, you need to find something to do."

Oh, yeah, well thanks for pointing that out to me, Mr. Prodigy. Besides, I had started to find some fun in thinking about aliens kidnapping the entire city of Dullerton. It was better than staring listlessly out the window, at least. And who was Al to deny my me fun, anyway? Hmph. The nerve of some people, coming in and disturbing someone's dull trance.

"Like what?" I replied, again in monotone.

"Oh, I don't know," Al said. "Just find something. You sitting there and sighing every five minutes is pretty annoying, you know."

"I haven't been sighing every five minutes." I knew I was right in saying this, though I was tweaking words in my favor. I was sighing more than every five minutes, every 60 seconds, to be exact. I had been counting in between my sighs. Duuuuuull.

"Well, we have plenty of books," Al said. Good suggestion, and a valiant try, but the dullness is too strong for you, little brother.

"I've already read all of them."

"There's a few you haven't."

"I don't feel like reading those today." I mean, geez, was this guy ever persistent. Wasn't a guy allowed to go sit and annoy everyone in sight by obviously acting bored? What if I happened to _enjoy_ being bored? Freedom of emotion, Al, gee whiz.

"Well, if you're going to be so stubborn about doing nothing, could you at least be more quiet about it?" Al asked. "I'm trying to read. It's very distracting."

Gee, what was it with that guy and trying to always read, anyway? It was like... like... he wanted to be... _smart_, or something.

"Fine, fine," I said with a wave of my hand. Al thanked me, trotted back to the sofa, and picked up his book again. I went back to staring out the window again.

Exactly 60 seconds later, I sighed. Al groaned and threw me A Very Dirty Look, somehow capitalizing the letters describing his very face. I shrugged my shoulders as innocently as I could muster.

"Sorry, sorry!" I said quickly. I didn't care much for being murdered before I could explain. "Habit."

"Habit?" Al quirked an eyebrow.

"It was 60 seconds," I said with a shrug, and turned back to looking at rain. Al obviously wanted to question me further, but also didn't want to pull away from his book for to long. So he turned back to his book. Some faithful brother. When the chips are down, he picks a book over someone with his blood. I knew who _not_ to pick for my basketball team.

60 seconds. I sighed again. Al made a sound that was almost animalistic, and slammed his book shut. Geez. Again, what was with the books, Al? Seriously, growling? Maybe the guy was hanging around cats too much. Maybe it was time for a kitty intervention. Yeah, maybe I could—

"Brother, _please_ go find something quiet to do."

"I don't wanna," I whined.

"When I say 'please,' I mean, ' before I punch you.'" He rubbed the bridge of his nose. I pulled a face. Pulled it, literally. It was just hanging in front of me, and I reached out, and grabbed its chin, and—

"What are you doing?" Al said.

"Pulling faces."

He decided it wasn't worth his time to argue with or question that one. A wise choice, I think, considering that I was willing to fight to the death over it. I mean, that face was just _begging_ to be pulled.

"Go do something quiet," Al groaned. "_Now._ You're obviously bored."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, and frankly, I don't care anymore. Read. Draw. Write. Do a puzzle. Build miniature cities. Anything other than sit here and annoy me."

Out of all of those, writing sounded the most appealing. So I went to my room, wrote a story about how bored I was, and named it "Dullerton." The End.

**So I haven't written in forever. Sue me. Actually, don't sue me, I can't afford it. Then again, who can? Uh... give me cookies. Yeah. Because it... uh... makes me write. Sure. **


End file.
